Brilliant
by tridecagirl
Summary: After an accident, Deryn wakes up to find that many things have changed. But she'll have to adjust quickly, because both she and Alek are going to face problems ahead.  Format is mostly fixed. First appeared on the Westerforum.
1. Deryn

**Deryn**

Usually I wake quickly, my middie training letting me jerk into awareness as soon as I might be needed. But for some reason I can't do that. I feel like I'm swimming in darkness, struggling to surface an inch at a time, with everything trying to drag me down again, like a kraken's got its tentacles around me and is holding fast.

Sounds come back first, the low murmurs of indistinct voices. I force my eyes open, confused. Where am I? What's going on? Last I remember, I was on a Huxley, surveying incoming German planes. I should still be out there, doing my duty.

My vision clears. I see the hospital bay. Dr. Barlow and Alek are sitting next to me. Alek sees me watching him and smiles. "I think he's waking up."

Princes, I think. Always good for stating the barking obvious. I realize he's holding my hand, and want to focus all my mind on that, but other feelings are coming back. Painful feelings, centering on my left shoulder and side. I bite my lip, wondering where all the pain is coming from. Then I remember - a series of memories, motionless images like stills from a camera. Me in the Huxley. A new German weapon that spat fire. The hydrogen breather burning above me, the fire spreading. Looking down and realizing that my only choice is to jump. Falling, plummeting towards the Leviathan, my arm on fire, hoping against hope that the membrane is softer than it looks...

Oh. That explains the pain. I try to look over and survey the damage, but Dr. Barlow stops me, asking, "How are you feeling?"

"Barking awful," I grimace.

"Can you move your left arm?" the lady boffin asks.

"Sure." That's the hand Alek isn't holding. It's a bit odd, for a boy to hold the hand of who he must think is another boy, but I don't mind. I lift my arm easily, then make the mistake of looking over. A gasp of shock passes my lips.

"Dylan," Alek says urgently, "it's all right."

I don't listen to him. All that I can think is that I, Deryn Sharp, decorated member of the Royal Air Force, am part Clanker now.

They are never going to let me hear the end of this.

"We tried to make it as... normal as possible," Alek says, looking anxious.

I examine the mechanical arm, frowning. It moves like a normal arm, probably helped by the fabricated nerves that run its length and disappear into my shoulder. It's a strange mix of Clanker and Darwinist, like the Leviathan. Like me now. As

I look at it, I realize that surgery this intense would definitely require the removal of my uniform. Which means...

"You know, don't you?" I ask.

"Just me, Klopp, and Dr. Barlow," Alek replies. "And Count Volger, who seems to have known for a while."

"Aye, he's a clever boots." I don't ask what he thinks of this, what this means for the both of us. I know, eventually, Alek will have to leave our ship, enter a world of politics and intrigue where I cannot follow. But for now, he's still holding my hand. And that will have to be enough.


	2. Alek

**Alek**

"Tell me if anything hurts."

She sighs. "Everything barking hurts. I've mostly stopped noticing it. Just fix me, all right?"

I nod and inspect my work so far. The problem is, as much as I don't want to admit it, metal is _dead_. It has no feeling by itself, no way to really live. To make a functioning arm, you need Darwinist technology. And living things are quite difficult to keep alive. The nerves that need to be strung through the mechaniks just shrivel up if left exposed. I have to find some way to keep them safe and still functioning, which would be hard enough if I wasn't a Clanker. But I'm the only one who understands the basics of both technologies, so it has to be me.

Deryn is standing in the middle of the floor, arms held out, an impatient expression flitting across her face. I can't blame her. I've been poking and prodding at her for over an hour now. Carefully, of course. Now that I know she's female, it's a little different. Strange.

I try a new prototype of Dr. Barlow's, winding it through the mechanikal parts in a way that should keep it protected. The fabricated nerves have been used before, for less drastic operations. Still, I don't like them. Maybe it's the way they worm their way into the person's skin, finding access to wherever they need to build connections. I'm not sure of the specifics. The whole thing faintly nauseates me.

The combination of Clanker and Darwinist fascinates me, though. Even the Americans are more prone to using one or the other, not both at the same time. I imagine writing a new textbook on engineering, creating a whole new brand of technology. Then I remember - princes do not write textbooks. This life, however much I may enjoy it, will have to be left behind soon.

I glance up at Deryn again. She knows more about being born in the wrong world than I ever gave her credit for. She's wincing now, but stubbornly not admitting to her pain. From Dr. Barlow's reports, a good part of her shoulder is burned badly. And the reminders of burning shrapnel are visible on her face, a constellation of circular silver scars like freckles dotting the left side of her face. Now that I can look, I can see the feminine cast of her features. How had I ever missed it?

"Barking Spiders!" she curses as I tinker with the - her - metal fingers. "I felt that one."

"Good. That means we're getting somewhere." I stand up. "I'll tell Dr. Barlow the last nerve type seems to be working. She'll be able to fabricate some more soon."

"Aye, if I hand over more of my life threads like a good little girl."

I flinch at the expression, sparking some residual confusion in my mind. She frowns, noticing it.

"Alek... I'm really sorry. For not telling you."

I shrug, trying to show her that it's no big deal. And it isn't - is it? "I understand. We all have secrets we want to stay concealed." I laugh once, hoping not too much bitterness leaks through. "But I've learned they never stay under wraps as long as you hope."

"I suppose so." She pauses, stretching out her human arm fretfully. "Thanks... for not being angry."

"I'll never be angry with you," I say, not sure where the words are coming from. But it's too late to take them back now. I leave the room, to find Dr. Barlow. Time to play a Darwinist again.


	3. Deryn2

**Deryn**

I walk through the gondola, muttering curses against the Germans as I go. Alek and Klopp did the best they could with my arm, really, but it's still heavier than it should be. I'm continually miscalculating and stumbling, sometimes even falling as I try to adjust to the dead metal weighing me down. Newkirk got a good laugh out of it for a while, until I reminded him what damage a metal hand could do to his dorsal regions. He's been quiet ever since.

"Mr. Sharp? A word?"

I look up and see Count Volger, lurking at the door of his quarters. The sight of him sends a shiver up my spine. He knows. And it's true that others do too now, but he's the one I distrust the most. Which, I suppose, means I should cooperate. I step inside, running the fingers of both hands over the grain of the table before I sit down. My mechanical hand doesn't have feeling as good as my real one, and it never will, but I don't take what I have for granted anymore.

Falling almost to your death can do that to a person.

Volger steeples his fingers and peers over them at me, his eyes calculating as always. He drops the 'Mr.' now that we're inside. "Ms. Sharp, you are aware of Alek's history, are you not?"

"Of course." He already knows this. "His parents weren't married right and they had to get some fancy scroll from the pope-"

"Yes, yes." Volger waves a hand before I can elaborate. "I sometimes wonder if he didn't just hand you a word by word account of his entire life. Anyway, I'm most concerned with his mother."

"Mother?" A thought crosses my mind. "Barking spiders. My ma."

His eyebrows rise. "Excuse me?"

I wave my mechanical arm despairingly. "She's going to absolutely kill me for coming home with a Clanker arm." I break into a grin as another thought occurs to me. "I bet she won't be able to shove me into dresses and send me off to find a suitor now, though."

"That's as it may be." Volger seems irritated that I deviated from his intended plan of attack. "You and Alek have always been close. And now that he's aware of your gender, I thought it was best to remind you of the situation."

I realize what he's getting at. Typical Count Volger, to dance around a topic instead of just spitting it out and saving us all time. "I'm not daft. Alek doesn't fancy me." In fact ever since my accident, he'd been different. Not avoiding me like the plague, which was something, but distant. "And even if he did..."I pause unhappily."We both know our places."

Volger leans back, satisfied. "Very good, Ms. Sharp. But just as a deterrent, I see fit to tell you that if I see you and Alek acting... improperly, I will inform the captain of your secret. Do you understand?"

My mouth drops open in outrage. "Now that's just dead unfair, you-"

I hear the door open and see Alek stepping in. "What's going on?" he asks, his eyes moving from Volger to me.

I'm sure my face lights up red as a sunset, but Count Volger remains cool and calm. "I was just informing our friend that, due to her arm, I'm cancelling our fencing lessons."

Fencing. It had almost been worth losing an arm to escape those. Alek doesn't realize that though. "I'm sure that if you master your arm, I can continue to teach you," he assures me in what he must think is a helpful manner.

"...Great," I manage, sending a look of pure venom towards the count. He ignores me.

"Wonderful," he says. "It we're all done here?' He stands up and sweeps out the door, leaving me completely baffled.


	4. Alek2

**Alek**

I follow Deryn as she storms out the door, looking flustered. I finally have to speed up and stop in front of her in order to slow her down. "All right," I ask, folding my arms. "What's going on?"

"What?" she asks, folding her arms as well. She looks angry.

"I may not be amazingly observant, but I've never known you to enjoy fencing. What were you and Volger really talking about?" She hesitates and I add, "You know you can't lie to me."

"I managed it for quite a while." She doesn't meet my eyes, a blush spreading across her face and making her scars stand out white. "He wanted to... remind me. Of who I was.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"That I'm just a commoner," she says bitterly, "and I should limit my association with you."

I stare at her, completely taken aback. "After all you've done for us, Volger is trying to send you away? He's gone mad."

"No he hasn't." Her voice is very small, her eyes sad. I had decided to treat her as if she was still a boy. That was who she wanted to be, after all. But seeing her like this, I almost break my promise and put an arm around her shoulders to comfort her, even though I don't know why she's upset. "I understand why."

"Enlighten me, because I still don't." The command, something I'm used to giving, comes out imperious. I bite my lip, wincing at the tone. I don't need to sound like a prince now. I need to sound like a friend.

"It's because... because of your mother," she chokes out, turning redder than I could have believed possible.

"My mo-?" Finally it dawns on me. "But that's simply absurd. You're my friend."

"Good," she says, but her eyes are sadder than ever.

"Wait," I begin, my mind leading me in unpleasant directions, "you aren't - you don't -"

"I need to go," she says quickly, and almost runs past me. I try to catch her hand, but she's already gone. So I stand in the hallway alone, frozen. It seems that Deryn... loves me. My mind tries to skip over the word. But goodness knows how long this has been going on. A million signs present themselves, all quite obvious now. I'm a proper dummkopft, really.

"Is something wrong?" I turn and see Count Volger. I don't know how much I should tell him. But I'm done keeping secrets.

"It's Deryn. She-'" And then the alarms begin to ring.


	5. Deryn3

**Deryn**

I don't know where I am when the alarms start. I'd just run off aimlessly, trying to escape Alek and my own wordless admissions. But when I hear the signal for an attack, I reach the deck in record time. Something to do, finally, something to get my mind off the mess my life has become.

The captain's waiting for me. "Mr. Sharp, we need you to do recon work. Are you able?"

"I'm able," I reply swiftly.

"But her arm-" I jerk at the voice. Alek has found his way up here, it seems.

"Injured or not, Mr. Sharp is still the best airman we have to spare," Captain Hobbes replies coolly. I nod, before Alek starts a mutiny, and walk over to where the crewmen are already securing a Huxley to one of the many mooring spots. Alek follows me anxiously.

"Can I help?"

I sigh. "The bumrags on watch last time didn't even see the fire spitters till I was falling. Be my lookout, and wave like mad if you see any nasties coming.

"But," he begins desperately, looking rather out of his depth, "I don't..."

I put my hand on his shoulder, meeting his eyes. "I trust you," I say quietly. That shuts him up, as I intended. I clamber into the harness, reaching up to brush my human fingers against the Huxley's gasbag. "Hey beastie," I whisper. "You and I are going to go on a little trip, and neither of us is going to come back crispy. I hope."

I ascend swiftly, and soon I'm bobbing at the end of my tether. Looking down, I gulp, finding a whole new meaning in the phrase 'a dead long drop'. This is my first time flying since my accident. It's a bit nerve-wracking.

Middies aren't afraid of heights, I tell myself. But another voice chimes in: I'm not afraid of heights. I'm afraid of falling.

"Aye well, I suppose we all are. The trick is not letting go." It's not until after I answer that I realize I spoke out loud. I can't hold back a giggle. What a picture I make - a half cracked lassie sitting in the air gabbing to herself. This won't do.

Reasserting myself, I look around. There are the German planes, three at port, one at starboard. I signal this information down, then squint at the starboard plane, looking for the distinctive shape of a fire spitter. It's no use - I haven't got a good angle. Then I remember and look down. Alek is following his orders and indeed waving like a madman. I smile and reach up to spook the Huxley. In a cloud of hydrogen, I reach the deck and step off, relishing the feeling of moving through the air. I'd missed this.

"What's it like to fly again?" Alek asks.

I grin. "Brilliant."


	6. Alek3

**Alek**

Deryn's face is flushed, her eyes glittering with excitement. I think flying did her good. She stands next to me, staring out into the dark. "Enjoying the show, your princeliness?"

I am, actually. I've never been on the airship during a battle before. The patchwork of searchlights, wheeling birds, and explosions are quite lovely, if I can forget that real people are out there, fighting and dying. It is an amazing show of the Darwinist's power.

"Duck," Deryn says amiably, sitting down.

"What?" I ask, transfixed by an aeroplane exploding into flame, the Iron Cross devoured by fire.

She rolls her eyes and yanks me down, holding her metal arm in front of our faces. A stray bullet bounces off it as a hail of them pass over our heads. She winces, then yells, "That's an hour of repairs, you bum rags!"

I laugh, and she scowls and punches me lightly on the shoulder, her smile rather spoiling the effect. As I smile back, our earlier discomfort forgotten, I feel a strange warmth, almost a glow, filling me. It's an unusual sensation, but not unpleasant.

To tear my eyes away from her, I look out at the battle. I see a German plane caught in the glittering wire of the strafing hawks, and another spiraling towards the water, shredded by flechettes. Adding the plane I saw explode earlier, that makes three. But Deryn signaled down that there were four...

"What's wrong with this?" I ask.

She glances around and notices the same thing I have. Unlike me, she doesn't seem worried. "I'm sure we got the other one. We just didn't notice."

I'm sure she's right, but I can't quell my unease. It leads me towards the nose of the ship, Deryn following unwillingly. Straining, I hear the telltale buzz of an aeroplane's engine, which abruptly cuts off. I peer over the edge and see an empty plane plummeting downwards. It hits the water with a flare of white, too far down to hear the splash.

"Where's the pilot?" Deryn asks

I look and see a ragged hole in the gondola's window, which leads to the bridge, if my memory serves me.

"Inside the airship," I say "They're going to take us over!"

"They haven't gotten to the engines," Deryn objects.

I shrug. "My men don't see who's giving the orders. They just follow the signal patch."

Deryn curses as the full impact of this sets in. "They can take us anywhere."

As she says it, I feel the Leviathan tilt under my feet. By Deryn's wide eyes, I know she feels it too. The airship is steadily heading downwards, towards the cold and unforgiving sea below.


	7. Deryn4

**Deryn**

My body starts to move before my mind catches up to things. There's a spare line of rope - I take it and secure it to a mooring hook at the head of the Leviathan. Then I freeze, looking down at the long drop to the freezing waters below. A Huxley was one thing. This is something else.

I did not pass myself off as a boy just to get scared of a wee little drop, I tell myself fiercely. And we're all going to fall, unless I do something.

So I hold my breath - unnecessarily, perhaps, but it makes me feel better - and jump.

Air rushes past me, ripping away the scream still unborn in my mouth. I'm afraid that the line's too long, but then I crash into the gondola, my metal arm absorbing most of the impact. I peer through the wide window into the bridge. The German pilot has a pistol to Captain Hobbes' head, and with the other hand has the ship steered downwards. He must be suicidal, I think, before realizing that's exactly what he is. But he's taking all of us down with him.

Hearing the thump I made, he looks up. His eyes, full of manic fire, widen.

I smile and wave, perhaps a little cheekily. Then I ball my metal fingers into a fist and punch through the window.

As soon as I hear shattering glass, I swing myself inside. There's a wrenching moment after I let go of the rope when I'm suspended in midair, then I land on blessedly solid floor. The German brandishes his pistol at me and yells in Clanker talk. I yell back.

"You bumrag! You're not hurting my airship while I'm alive!"

At the same moment, it occurs to both of us that he's a soldier with a gun, and I'm a wee middie armed only with my voice.

Perhaps I should have planned this a squick more thoroughly.

I back up, gulping, and he points the pistol at my face. I can only hope he won't shoot and risk a stray spark igniting the mass of hydrogen above our heads. But he wants the Leviathan destroyed, after all. It probably doesn't matter how.

He's tensing the finger on the trigger when Alek bursts in, green eyes blazing, fencing saber in one hand. He's angrier than I've ever seen him, and the pilot swings around ready to shoot. I won't let him be hurt on my account. "Hey!" I yell. "Don't forget me!"

The man's eyes flicker towards me, which gives Alek all the time he needs to cross the room and stab him through the heart.

I stare.

White faced, Alek pulls his saber out and lets it clatter to the ground, letting the soldier's body crumple. Blood spatters his hand and the front of his shirt. "It's different up close," he says, swaying on his feet.

I don't care if Volger would deem it inappropriate. I walk over and put my arms around him, feeling him shaking and knowing there's nothing I can say to make this all right.


	8. Alek4

**Alek**

I killed a man.

The thought haunts me. Every time I close my eyes I see his widen, feel his blood drench my hands. I had to do it, I reason. I had to save Deryn, the Leviathan. And myself. But the images, and the guilt, don't stop. I've been the cause of many deaths. The soldier on the horse, the walker pilots in Istanbul - but this is the first I've dealt with my own two hands.

I toss and turn most of the night, then wake up screaming so loudly that a bleary eyed Deryn comes in asking if the Clankers have invaded again.

Embarrassed - I shouldn't cry out at dreams - I explain as she pulls up a chair and settles down. When I finish, she shrugs. "I suppose we all have nightmares."

I remember her dreams of her father's death, and wonder how she ever found the courage to fly again after that, or after her own accident. "You're the bravest person I've ever met," I say with the unfiltered honesty that comes from being half asleep.

She just smiles and takes my hand, a comforting gesture. "Don't be silly."

"Really," I protest.

"Shh. Go to sleep."

So I don't tell her that I mean it, and that I wish I could be as brave as her, and that I think I'm falling in love with her, which for me is the greatest crime of all. Instead I let my eyes slide closed and fall into a sleep blessedly free of dreams.

When I wake up, she's still there, slumped over in the chair. Her arm is extended, fingers curled like she fell asleep holding my hand.

I hear the door knob turn and look up guiltily. Volger walks in with the paper. He raises his eyebrows.

"It's nothing inappropriate," I say irritably.

"It doesn't matter now." He dangles the newspaper in front of my face, eyes glittering. I squint at the headline an inch from my eyes and my heart goes cold.

Deryn wakes with a start. "Wha- What's he doing here?"

I hand her the newspaper that reads 'Emperor Franz Joseph dead'. "He's gone," I say. "I'm going home."

"Maybe there's some other way."

Deryn sighs gustily - I think she's exaggerating. "There is no other way. This isn't a barking fairy tale. Sure, you're a prince. But I'm not some wee lass trapped in a tower. You can't ride up on a white horse, give me a kiss, and save the day. Not this time."

"Things change," I persist. "Someday, maybe."

"Yes, maybe someday princes will be able to marry whoever they want, even some girl they meet at school," she says sarcastically. "But someday isn't now."

I know she's right. I've been trapped like this since birth, really.

She smiles, a little sadly. "We live in two different worlds. You know they could only overlap for a while." Her voice turns serious. "If you only listen to me once, make it now. Go back. Stop the war. For all of us."

"I will," I say, and feel the weight of the world settling down on me. "I have to."


	9. Deryn5

**Deryn**

I look at myself in the mirror. My hair cut like a boy's, a metal arm, a face marked by scars, any curves I may or may not have hidden. Could Alek think me pretty? It doesn't matter now, of course. He's leaving, like I told him too. It's for the best, of course, but why must doing the right thing be so barking hard?

Newkirk knocks on my door. "We're landing soon," he says. "Captain wants you."

"In a bit," I shout back. Austria-Hungary. Alek is leaving here. I'll never see him again. How on earth am I supposed to report for duty?

I walk out into the hallway, making my way towards the spot where the stairs will unfold and let off our passengers. I don't see Bauer or Klopp, but Volger and Alek are already there. Alek is staring out the porthole - Volger seems to be whispering in his ear. He shrugs him off, looks up, and sees me. I wave.

Volger scowls as Alek walks over. "Don't worry," he shouts back, "I won't do anything you'd deem inappropriate."

I sigh. "Is he still going on about that?"

Alek walks into an alcove and leans against the wall wearily. "Worse than ever. I think he can't believe it's finally over. He keeps thinking something terrible will happen."

"I know the feeling." The papers all think the war will be ending soon, with Austria-Hungary becoming a friendly power. Only Germany will be left, and they can't hold out alone against the world. It's hard to believe that the Great War didn't even last a year.

Surprisingly, he hugs me. "Will I ever see you again?"

"No," I answer. "It's better if you just forget me."

"I don't think I'll be able to. You're rather memorable."

I consider myself, and suppose he's right. Then, before less mad thoughts can change my mind, I lean forward and kiss him. His eyebrows go up, but he kisses me back, and it's me who pulls away. "Now you can forget me," I say, a bit breathlessly.

He just laughs.

As the war draws to a halt, we're allowed leave in London. So much has changed since I last set foot in the city. I know I'm not the same person who sailed away in a Huxley almost a year ago. Now I'm lost, alone even in the sky. Alek is gone. Maybe it would have been easier to follow Volger's advice and remember my place, not get attached. But I can't regret loving someone, even if it will make the future so much harder.

I climb down the steps with the others, hearing the swell of noise from those waiting below. The joy of those seeing their loved ones for the first time in months, and the wails of those whose family and friends did not return. Every war has its price, after all. Over the noise of the crowd, I hear my mother's voice, shrill with anger and surprise.

"Der - Dylan Sharp! What did you do to your arm?"

And I can't help it. I feel a grin spread across my face. Because I'm Deryn Sharp. Because I passed myself off as a boy in the Royal Air Force, masterminded a revolution, kissed a prince, saved more lives than I can count, and maybe helped end a war. Because no matter what happens, I can always be sure of one thing:

My life is pretty barking brilliant.


End file.
